


Drown your sorrow in this bottle (it's full of the things I'll never say to you)

by Delirious_Comfort



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Angst and Feels, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Idiots in Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-07
Updated: 2017-04-07
Packaged: 2018-10-16 03:49:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10563090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Delirious_Comfort/pseuds/Delirious_Comfort
Summary: One notebook, one story, six words that break Henry's heart over and over again.Stories always end the same way. Right?





	

**Author's Note:**

> This was meant to be a multiple chapter story, but as I've got so many going right now, I'm putting it as a one shot, as it works, sorta. One day I'll finish it, but for now every time I see chapter 1 of ? I just get frustrated because I can't write three different stories at once. Sorry.

_"She left me and I lived."_  
  
It was the only way the story could ever end. He had known that all along. But, reliving the story through his mothers eyes meant he had gotten a glimmer of hope once more. A reason to believe that this story wouldn't end in utter heartbreak or that desperate, longing feeling for a lost loved one. Not that it mattered in the end, no matter how many times he reread the story, no matter whose eyes he watched it through, it always ended the same way.

The same six words that made tears spill from his eyes.

The same six words that broke his heart.

The same six words that were beautifully imperfect.

The same six words that were perfectly ugly.

_"She left me and I lived."_

He wasn't ready for the story to be over yet, he needed more. There was a great desire to feel the words, that had been so carefully written down, burn into his skin, to feel the ink flow through his veins and to gasp for breath as his was taken away by words, sentences and paragraphs. So, he took a deep breath, closed his eyes and whispered, "Again."

 

* * *

  
**Caution: Contains Sensitive Material.**

The words were written in big, bold letters. He assumed it had been a sharpie, which made him smile because he knew his mother had started this diary in anger. If it had started out any other way, her handwriting would have been perfect, the t's would have been crossed with tiny wings and the i's would have been dotted with a pen stroke so soft, it would almost be invisible. His mother used her penman ship delicately, as she did with every other aspect in her life. It was a skill he greatly admired and, sadly, never inherited from her.

She had given the diary to him not too long ago. The hands that had stayed smooth for years beyond her age, now showed subtle wrinkles. Her smile that could brighten his day, now came with creases and...as much as he hated to admit it, a smile that never seemed to be there completely. Her smiles were real, but it was as if a part was missing, a muscle to make her face smile as well, perhaps a twitch in the corner of her mouth...something, anything. It no longer was a part of her face. It had disappeared when–

**CAUTION.**

He slowly shook his head, an amused smile vanishing as quickly as it appeared. Perhaps it had been a warning to anyone who ever dared to open the notebook, perhaps they were meant for him. But that was a long time ago. This time he was encouraged to read it. And he had. Over and over again.

**CONTAINS SENSITIVE MATERIAL**

It wasn't a lie. Reading these pages weren't easy. Some pages were showered in love, others with words of pure hatred, but even he could see that in the words of hatred, a thin layer of love lay just behind it.  
That perfectly described his mother as well. When you looked at her from a distance, it was easy to see the Evil Queen she once used to be. She had eyes that saw straight through you, a sharp mouth that made even him cower in fear sometimes, even if it wasn't aimed at him. She no longer was that person though. The word he heard over and over now was redemption.

'It's so good to see your mom has redeemed herself.'

He hated that word now.

Redemption.

Yes. She had redeemed herself. But that was years and years ago and still to this day, it was what people would use to describe her.

Not him though. He would describe her as the perfect mother, so understanding, so passionate and so utterly heartbroken.

He focused on the words in front of him, inhaling the smell of the peppermint candle that burned not far away from him. It always made him feel calm, another thing he had inherited from his mother. She had an entire collection by now, scents that would calm her, scents that made her relive memories and scents that made her cry. The peppermint candle was a favorite for them both.

_Emma Swan–_

Swallowing thickly he prepared himself for what would come next. It was as if he had already memorized the entire notebook, but they were memories he desperately tried to forget. Perhaps reading it this time would lead to a different result. It couldn't hurt to hope. That was what his grandmother had taught him, whenever everything was lost, he would always have hope.

Reaching out with a tentative finger, he let it slide of the name. The hairs in the back of his neck stood up straight. They always did. He missed her beyond words. Grief, they said, would have stages. He had learned that wasn't true. Grief was a roller coaster, always present and always so incredibly painful.

He had bargained with the universe and it, in return, had been silent. And silence was deafening.

_Emma Swan might quite possibly be the most infuriating woman I have ever met._

He cocked an eyebrow and looked up at the scribbled date at the top of the page. 

_Jan 6th, 2009_

That seemed about right. Back then they still hated each other with a fiery passion. Things had changed since then. Oh, how they had changed. 

_She's also the one I am irrevocably in love with._

His heart fluttered as he let the words wash over him. Never in his wildest dreams could he have imagined that his mothers would fall in love, let alone with each other. But it had happened, after years of bickering back and forth, they finally gave in. It was hard to read how the book began, but it was even harder to accept the last sentence on the very last page.

_She left me and I lived._

 


End file.
